


Someone Else to See You First

by Driftwoodsun



Series: Unable to Connect, Please Try Again [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Tsukishima Kei, Beginnings, Cock Worship, Confident Yamaguchi Tadashi, Crying Tsukishima Kei, Cum Swallowing, Emotionally Overwhelmed Tsukishima Kei, Farsighted Tsukishima Kei, Figuring Things Out, First Time Blow Jobs, First Year Tsukishima Kei, First Year Yamaguchi Tadashi, For Being So Observant Tsukki Sure is Oblivious, Is Yamaguchi Topping from the Bottom Here? It's Hard to Tell, Listen Yamaguchi Has Spent a Lot of Time Studying Up On This Okay?, M/M, Mentioned Ushijima Wakatoshi, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Traditional Power Dynamics, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Sex Is Not The Enemy, Sex as Connection, Sex as a Force for Good, Soft Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Kei Is Secretly A Soft Cinnamon Roll That Needs Protecting, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, Vulnerable Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi Worships The Ground Tsukishima Kei Walks On, Yamaguchi Tadashi is Good at Feelings, dubcon, therapeutic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Driftwoodsun/pseuds/Driftwoodsun
Summary: When Yamaguchi confronts Tsukishima in the bathroom after the match against Shiratorizawa, things take a decidedly different turn and Kei's entire world shifts.It turns out that sometimes, to see yourself, you need someone else to see you first.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: Unable to Connect, Please Try Again [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168286
Comments: 14
Kudos: 125





	Someone Else to See You First

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the dubcon tag above. Yamaguchi seeks permission here, but whether or not he actually receives it is ambiguous. Tsukishima never explicitly says "Yes" or "No" in the context of this fic.

He was trying not to hyperventilate.

He was not succeeding.

Thoughts of the match, of Shiratorizawa - of Ushijima - rattled through his mind. The brush of the volleyball against too-slow fingers. The slam of the spike into the ground on his side of the court. Over and over. Getting through. Always getting through. Except once.

His pinky throbbed.

He breathed. He held the sink, his glasses next to his hand. The water was cool on his face. He watched, blearily, as it dripped from his blonde hair into the basin.

The bathroom door opened. He looked up.

Yamaguchi. Of course. It was always Yamaguchi.

“Tsukki? The awards ceremony is about to start!” the boy chirped. 

Tsukishima huffed and stared at himself in the mirror.

“‘How many did you miss?’ Go on, say it to me.”

Yamaguchi stilled and offered no reply. Tsukishima continued, narrowing his eyes at his blurred reflection. Unsure, now, who exactly he was talking to - Yamaguchi or the smudge of an image staring back at him.

“I only managed to stop one single spike. We played five whole sets. I’m so un-” The door shut, quietly but firmly.

Tsukishima glanced up at Yamaguchi as the boy strode towards him, crowding his space. Unthinking, he stepped away with a startled intake of breath. His back hit the bathroom wall. He drew himself up as Yamaguchi placed his hands beside him on the wall, effectively caging him in.

The boy glared up at him. Rage - and something else, something that Tsukishima couldn’t place, but that was just as intense radiated off of him. 

“Shut. Up. Tsukki.”

Tsukishima met his gaze as much as he could; flatly, closing his mouth with a small click and allowing his lips to settle into the mute line of safe detachment that so often served as his outward mask and inward shelter.

Yamaguchi continued to glare at him for a few moments more, before his gaze took on a different quality that Tsukishima’s eyes were unable to read at this distance. He stood unmoved, his own gaze cool and dull and empty behind the closed door of his indifference. His hand itched for his glasses on the edge of the sink. 

“Oh, Tsukki...” Yamaguchi dropped his gaze. Was that sorrow in his tone? Disappointment? Disbelief?

Tsukishima stared at the top of Yamaguchi’s head, at the smudge of brown that was his hair. His fingers twitched. The boy seemed to be considering something. His arms fell to his sides, no longer caging Kei in. A moment later, they were on his chest as Yamaguchi tentatively stepped into him, fumblingly pulling Kei into a gentle hug.

He allowed it but did not return it. Yamaguchi held it for several seconds anyway before looking back up at him and giving him a sad smile.

“Oh Kei, is your farsightedness really so bad that you're unable to see yourself?”

Tsukishima stiffened.

And then Yamaguchi was suddenly, ridiculously, sinking to his knees.

Tsukishima looked at him dumbly. “What are you doing?” He asked, his tone carefully controlled. It offered only flat, monotone indifference while his mind raced at the implications of the act, and the fact that certain parts of him really seemed to like having Yamaguchi on his knees in front of him. He realized dimly that a piece of his mind – a jealous, possessive, selfish piece - felt that it was exactly where the boy belonged; where he had always belonged and where he would always belong. It was an inclination that surprised him and he could feel the flush burning on his cheeks when he couldn't quite bring himself to reject it.

“Hm.” Yamaguchi paused. “I’m... I’m going to show you something, Tsukki. I really...” he let out a shuddering sigh followed by a quick, deep breath. He nodded, once, to himself. “I really hope you’re able to see it.” He leaned back and up, lightly grabbing Tsukishima’s glasses from the edge of the sink and holding them up to his taller, blonde friend.

Tsukishima hesitated before slowly plucking them out of Yamaguchi’s hands. They hung limply from his fingers while he looked down flatly at the black and orange smear in front of him. Firmly schooling his expression into one of apathetic listlessness, he slipped them on and crossed his arms in front of himself. He could see Tadashi clearly now. Too clearly. He blinked owlishly into the warm brown of his eyes as they stared up at him earnestly, could pick out the individual freckles sprayed across the bridge of his nose, could follow them down across the firm line of his neck and shoulders to where they disappeared under his jersey, could note the apparent softness of his lips, linger on a stray lock of brunette hair; experience and dismiss the intense and absurd desire to tuck it behind his friend’s ear.

His expression remained blank.

Yamaguchi smiled up at him nervously, before he leaned slowly, tentatively toward him and hooked his fingers into the top of the blonde's shorts.

Tsukishima’s thoughts collapsed. The sound of roaring water filled his ears. 

His world stilled.

“Is this okay?” The tone was soft, tentative. 

Silence.

Yamaguchi was looking up at him, gaze searching.

Tsukishima worried his lip.

_Is this okay? IS this okay? What is THIS? Do I want this? Is this what I want? What do I want? What are you doing? Where is the team? Oh God, did Tadashi lock the door? Anyone could come in... Aren’t we supposed to go to the victory ceremony? They’re going to come looking for us. Tadashi. Tadashi. What are you thinking?_

“Okay, Tsukki. Okay.” He looked away and let his fingers fall from Tsukishima’s shorts. The blonde huffed lightly at the loss of contact. Minutely, almost imperceptibly, his hips chased Yamaguchi’s retreating fingers. He held his breath.

The boy glanced at Tsukishima’s face. The blonde’s expression was no longer one of schooled indifference. His gaze was cloudy now, unsure. Yamaguchi looked up at him steadily. He quirked an eyebrow at Tsukishima and then, very quickly and very clearly, swiped his tongue along the plump flesh of his bottom lip. Tsukishima’s breath hitched.

“Okay, Tsukki? Come on, let me in. Just… let me in.”

A moment later, the front of Tsukishima’s shorts and boxer-briefs were slowly being dragged down until he was entirely exposed. He startled and gasped, whole body going rigid. His hips attempted to stutter. Yamaguchi held them firmly against the wall while he allowed his soft, fond gaze to take Tsukishima in, his eyes roaming and lingering intensely on Tsukishima’s cock like it was the most beautiful and important thing in his entire world. He lifted his gaze to Tsukishima’s eyes.

“You’re big, Tsukki,” He breathed; air ghosting over the blonde’s skin before returning his eyes to the half-hard dick before him. His left hand kept Tsukishima’s hip pinned, while his right fanned out over the blonde’s cock, tracing its veins and ridges without ever quite touching them. Heat curled low in Tsukishima’s gut at the sight. He swallowed loudly.

“I bet I can make you bigger though.”

Tsukishima could practically hear the smirk in his voice before his brain short circuited as he watched Yamaguchi’s lips wrap around and suck him in. He gasped, laying his head back against the wall and slamming his eyes shut as his entire world suddenly collapsed into the heavenly confines of Yamaguchi’s soft, warm, and wet mouth. He could feel himself respond as the boy’s tongue lapped slowly and gently at the underside of his cock, clearly trying to coax him to full hardness. Yamaguchi hummed appreciatively upon achieving this goal. Tsukishima watched through pleasure-dimmed eyes, toes curling and uncurling, hands scrabbling against the wall, as Yamaguchi spent time appreciating the head of his cock with his mouth while his hands worked and teased his shaft and balls lightly. A spike of arousal flooded through him when he realized that this was because his size was making Tadashi’s efforts more difficult than they would otherwise be. Why was that fact so hot? More disturbingly, why was the possibility, newly realized, of making Tadashi learn to take all of him even hotter? It made him want to groan. He bit his fist instead.

Yamaguchi glanced up at the movement and briefly removed his mouth from Tsukishima’s cock.

“Look at me Tsukki.” It was a command, not a request. His mouth returning to lave affection and adoration on the blonde.

Tsukishima obeyed it unwillingly. He watched as Yamaguchi lavished him with gentle, worshipful, loving attention. He couldn’t stop watching. His toes kept curling. His breath kept hitching. He suddenly and very irritatingly found himself blinking back tears. He sniffed and looked away.

“Ya-Yamaguchi… I want… what do I… what do I do with my hands?” He half-muttered, half-choked out, a note of desperation tinging his voice. It was too much. He felt like he couldn’t move. He felt like he was going to explode.

Yamaguchi hummed again and ran one of his hands through his own hair.

_Oh. OH. I’m allowed to touch him. Of course I am. Of course._

He haltingly reached out and carded his fingers through the soft brown strands. Yamaguchi sighed, leaning into the touch as his mouth remained on Kei, making him feel so sweetly, extraordinarily good. Better than he had ever considered possible. Even so, the desire to cry remained with him, unabated. Kei hiccoughed pathetically. Sniffed. Attempted to wetly blink things away. Inhaled. Opened his eyes.

Yamaguchi was watching him, pupils blown wide. He met Kei’s watery stare with a look of such nakedly open adoration, affection and love that Kei didn’t know what to do with it; felt it break something inside of him; felt something old and rotting finally give way and suddenly he was horribly, profoundly vulnerable; desperately, terrifyingly open and exposed. He wanted to run away, to curl into himself and hide again, to burrow into the soothing, unseeing dark of his mind where the only judgment he faced was his own. But he couldn’t flee, here, like this. Tadashi’s gaze held him and scoured him with light. Saw him and very clearly, very radiantly loved every piece of who Tsukishima was.

He bit back a sob as pleasure crashed over him; obliterating his world, so intense it was almost painful as he emptied himself into Yamaguchi’s wonderful, still working mouth, earning a yelp from the rapidly swallowing boy as Tsukishima’s hands involuntarily fisted in his hair.

When he came back to himself, Yamaguchi was standing up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze was soft as he gently tucked Tsukishima back into his shorts and watched him come down from the high of his orgasm.

The blonde took several deep, shuddering breaths. He adjusted his glasses.

“Are we… Did we miss the ceremony?”

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes. “THAT’S the first thing out of your mouth? Tsukki, you didn’t last _that_ long.”

“Oh.” He supposed that was to be expected. “Did I hurt you?”

“Hurt me?”

“You... made a noise when I accidently pulled your hair.” Tsukishima tugged on his fingers and glanced away.

“That wasn’t a bad noise, Kei.”

“Oh. Well. Good. Good then. I… Good.” He nodded and fell silent, feeling the tips of his ears go red as his mind filed that information away to be considered later.

“Look at me, Kei.” There it was, that command again.

He complied, briefly, before looking away.

“Hey. Look at me?” Softly, this time, a question, not a demand.

Tsukishima’s gaze didn’t shift. “It’s difficult… when you look at me like… like that.”

Yamaguchi tilted his head. “The way you deserve to be looked at.”

He stared at the floor and continued to tug on his bandaged fingers. Dimly, he was aware that his pinky was still throbbing dully.

“I... Yes…That.”

“You need to get used to it, Tsukki.”

_Why do I keep wanting to cry?_ He blinked the newly forming tears rapidly away.

“Yamaguchi…” it was just above a whisper. He brought his fingers up, under the lenses of his glasses, and rubbed at his eyes.

The boy waited. Tsukishima took a deep breath.

“I do?” He exhaled

“Yes, you do.”

He considered the brunette standing before him for a moment before glancing away again. He allowed himself to breathe before responding in a small voice.

“Okay. Okay.” He nodded minutely. “I think… I think… I’d like to... do that. Get used to it, I mean.”

Yamaguchi took his hand and smiled, weaving their fingers together. Tsukishima looked at them dumbly. Something faint and unfamiliar, but warm and glowing, bloomed in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with this, either. But he promised himself that he would learn.

They managed to make it to the ceremony with two minutes to spare.

**Author's Note:**

> I can see this evolving into a series. It's my first fic ever though, so who knows.


End file.
